“Hey, you,” I say.
“Hey, Barbie man.”
I swallow the reply and lift the pizza boxes. “Pizza man tonight.” Tits man too, but I can’t say that.
The eye widens, the door swings open, and I’m in. As I stand inside Tammy’s house, I feel like Alexander the Great after conquering Persia. Mighty as fuck. The man never lost a battle, and I ain’t gonna lose one either. Not that Tammy understands I think of her as land to conquer, but it is what it is.
I look around the place in search of my throne. Brown suede couch. I plop my ass on it, throw the pizza on the coffee table, get a beer, and lift my feet. Nestling on the plush couch, I wiggle my ass and lean back, throwing an arm up beside me. Gonna watch… I frown at the TV. Disney channel.
The girls kneel at the table, grab a slice each, open their little mouths, and are about to bite down on slices of pizza dripping grease between their fingers when Tammy comes in wearing a pink robe and a pink towel. She rubs her wet hair. She’s naked under that robe. In my brain, I’m already sucking her tits while she rides my cock right here on the couch.
“No food in the living room,” she says. “Beer goes in the fridge. Take your shoes off, Reed, you’re not in the bar. I’ll be right back.”
The girls groan and walk to another room. Groaning too, I bring the beer and pizza and sit with them in the room they clearly use for formal occasions.
There’s a fancy chandelier and a bunch of crystal crap in the cabinet. I’m not formal or a guest, no matter how Tammy feels about my coming over. Soon enough, I’m gonna have my face inside her pussy, and that’s as informal as it gets.
I sit with the girls and drink my beer, watching them a little, trying to figure out how to tell them apart besides their clothes and attitudes. One is more assertive than the other, the leader and the follower. Their ranking is clear to me, but I’m having a hard time telling them apart.
“You’re staring,” the leader tells me.
“I’m trying to tell you apart.”
“This is my sister Melany, and I’m Reagan.”
“Reed,” I introduce myself and extend a hand. They clasp it at the same time, shake it.
“Thank you for the toys. Aunt Tammy is upset with you, but we’re not.”
I reach into my pockets and put the poodles on the table. “They forgot to bag this stuff, so I had to go back.” Shit. The man’s truck. “Excuse me.” I pull up my phone and text Dawson about the truck. He’ll return it for me.
“Aunt Tammy says you’re a war hero,” Reagan says.
More asking around about me. Maybe Tammy googled me or she just asked the old man at the store. What was his name again? Marty, I believe. “I’m just a Barbie man.”
The girls giggle. “Melany called you that,” Reagan says.
Melany smiles, a little shy, and speaks for the first time. “I have a birthmark here”—she points under her chin—“and my nose is longer. Also, the gap between my eyes is more narrow than Reagan’s.”
“Narrower,” Tammy says and joins us. She glances at me and reaches under the table to squeeze my knee.
Okay, what’s that mean? On the field, we use gestures and hand signals all the time, but I don’t know what this means. I squeeze her thigh, linger there, and Tammy stops eating to give me a look of warning, then scoots away in her chair.
I have no idea what we’re doing here. You touch me, and I touch you more, no? Domestic life is like being thrown into the Amazon rainforest with a backpack, a piece of dry cheese, and a canister of water I know won’t last more than a week if I ration.
I’m gonna take clues from these seven-year-olds. They know everything, and they eat like some of my men, polishing offthe entire large pizza between the two of them. Tammy ate one piece. I had none. I’ll eat pussy later.
7
TAMMY
Ever since Reed came over, I’ve both dreaded and looked forward to the moment the girls fell asleep. Ten times I wanted to ask him to leave, but didn’t have it in me, not because I couldn’t be rude, but because I didn’t know what to make of the butterflies in my belly. This man ran seven miles after my car. What kind of man does that?
Not to mention having a man in this house feels right, and that’s scary because Reed could bail one day, leaving me dragging my heart around town for everyone to see. I also couldn’t do it to my girls. While I believe in parenting in pairs, I wouldn’t bring just anyone here. Not that I brought him here in the first place. He barged in here without even asking for permission. That’s another thing about this man.
I finally know what it’s like to be chased by a dominant man, one who knows what he wants and takes charge of a situation, does things he’ll ask permission for later.
Men like him don’t come around too often, no matter what my novels say. I’m a romantic at heart, which is why I read romance books with alpha males who come and take over thingsthat have been piling up for the heroine. As a single parent of twin girls, I’ve got a lot of work that never gets done. At least today I shaved my legs and pussy and…well, I guess I know where this is going.
